CHAPTER 18

Days, months and years later...

The joy and euphoria gradually faded. Pregnancy after pregnancy, miscarriage after miscarriage. The will, gradually, seemed to be overcome by reality.

Each sad experience added extra pain to her heart, making it calloused after the apparent scarring.

On uncertain days, during sunset, it was common for everyone to witness a tall, Caucasian, bearded man with long, disheveled hair sitting on one of the benches in the beautiful garden inside the family cemetery.

In front of him and around him are the pompous epitaphs of all members of his wife's family and one who shares his surname. One of them still has a girl's name, Brenda, and the three most recent ones just have dates of when they were declared dead in the womb and nothing more.

In addition to the setting, similar to a paradise, full of life, the tombs conveyed an inanimate, lifeless void. The same pallor and lack of expression was on the face of the man who was present before what was left of the lar